Desperation's Reminder
by Rhennan
Summary: In the two years she lived alone, Kaoru ran out of money and had to resort to something desperate. Now, just when she thought everything was settled, the past is coming back for a visit. Secrets, especially secret lives, have a way of revealing themselves
1. The Letter

Her shadow fell across the table as she set the letter down. She splayed her hands across it, leaning down and pinning it to the flat surface as though it might rise and walk away; she closed her eyes and fought whatever emotion was trying to crawl out her throat. It was late afternoon, in a world that was light and soft; a perfectly ironic spring day. She knew what the letter was, even without opening it – and yet she stared at it, and willed it not to be. Not now, not when it seemed they had beaten all of their enemies and brought all of their little family well and truly home at last. The sounds of the others filled the air; arguing and laughing and working and _living_.

She felt dead, by comparison.

Slowly, she sank down before the table. She broke the seal, opened it; the symbol inside was exactly what she had expected. And exactly what she had hoped never to see again, at least not on paper. It was burned into her shoulder, blazoned into her soul; whether or not this had come, it was a part of her and she a part of it. The only difference was, now it was calling her. The only change was that she would have to answer.

You didn't get a second chance when you made a deal with the Devil.

Kaoru sighed, and folded the paper. She got out another sheet, and the ink, and began writing a list of what she would need. Writing it in code, that is. That initial training, so many years ago, would have been hard to recall, if it weren't for the occasional letters between the friends – no, sisters – she had met in that place and time. A sort of code no one would expect from a woman, from her, though she certainly wouldn't be leaving the page where anyone could find it.

Clothes, some journey food, a little of her saved cash. A good excuse to leave for her friends, that would keep them from following or worrying. A new training schedule. A way to train up her strength that they wouldn't notice. A way to hide the changes that would come in the weeks before she had to leave. Letters, in case she didn't come back. Someone to leave the letters with –

Kaoru stared at the paper. Who could she trust with such a thing? It had to be someone who would let her leave – but who cared enough to look after her loved ones for her. And there was so much more to do than she could do herself! And she would need to be able to exchange letters with friends, letters that, code or no, would reveal far more than she wanted her friends to know. There would be packages, too; after all, her current supply wouldn't last… as long as needed.

Twelve weeks. It was short, it was long; it was a breath of time, and the rest of this life.

Kaoru sank her head into her hands, and tried to weep for the pain of it. The tears wouldn't come.

It was better that way. Better that no one could know or guess. Kenshin, at least, was far too perceptive for her to get away with bawling unnoticed. Though she wished she could talk to him. Wished, more than anything, she could let him comfort her. Oh, if only she could tell him, talk to him! But no, he would want a different solution. He would not let her go – or he would go with her. And she couldn't have that.

No, that would be impossible. And leaving, after that, would break one or the other of them – or both.

Her hand fisted on the list, crinkling it within her palm. She could feel the tickle of ink against her skin, then she balled the paper and held it up before her, staring at it. It just wasn't _fair_. Why couldn't this have come a few years ago, before Kenshin wandered into her life and she had friends and a certain joy to her days? Or why not when Kenshin had left for Kyoto, and she had lost all sense of purpose? She threw the wadded paper with all the force she could muster, and it smacked into the wall and bounced, solidly, flying most of the way back towards her.

She glared at it, where it had landed. And then sighed – flinging bits of paper wouldn't solve anything. It was hardly the papers' fault what she'd written on it.

Kaoru stared at her hands, at the ink, at fresh paper – but couldn't bring herself to combine the three into a new list. She needed time to think, time away from everyone where she could consider how to do these things. Someone she could talk to that, if she let some vague reference slip, it wouldn't matter. Someone who wasn't close enough to really care what she was saying, but who would listen anyhow.

Kaoru smiled slightly. Perhaps dinner out was a good idea.

She slipped the letter off the table, tucking it into her clothes where it wouldn't be noticed. She left the list, for now. Some part of her spirit was daring one of the others to find it, to question her about it. But though they might find it, they wouldn't suspect a thing from it, except perhaps that she'd taken to writing strange lists of chores and groceries. They wouldn't ask about it, unless it was to see if she wanted those things bought, or those chores done.

Kenshin watched Kaoru walk out the gate without taking notice of almost anything. His small effort at remaining unnoticed was entirely wasted. Frowning, he slipped from the shadow of the tree; while he'd done his best to keep her and the others feeling safe, he hadn't always managed it. He knew they had changed, that they were more wary and observant than they'd been before his coming – but just then, she'd wandered right past him without even looking around, much less noticing anything.

And it wasn't like her at all to leave, without telling someone. Without telling _him_.

Kenshin walked slowly towards the house, to the room he'd been watching her in. There'd been a letter, of that much he was certain. A threat, perhaps, by the way she'd taken it – only, he'd like to think she would have brought a threat to him. No – he was sure she would have brought a threat to him, and it wouldn't have had her walking around in a daze, at any rate; she'd have been on edge, nervous. There'd been a strain, a sort of hurt confusion in her – but no panic, not even surprise or shock.

So the note had been expected, at least a little.

Kenshin sighed, as he stared at the empty room. There was really a great deal he didn't know about Kaoru, about any of his friends. He didn't ask because he didn't really want them asking in return – some parts of his life he wanted to leave assigned to the person he'd once been, safely hidden away beside the amber eyes and the intent to kill. But his friends weren't supposed to have mysterious pasts creeping up to send them letters – that was _his_ life.

He knelt and scooped up the crinkled paper Kaoru had thrown. He flattened it, frowning at the smudged writing. He'd known it wasn't the letter, watched her writing it herself – but he hadn't expected _this. _He stared at it unseeing, as confused as he could ever remember being.

Why would a grocery list matter so much? And a few household chores – was there some event, perhaps, she had to prepare for? Some guest coming into town she didn't like? He sighed – that was likely. Some relative she had never mentioned, coming for a visit she didn't want. As innocuous as the list before him.

Still, even as he tucked the list away and moved to clean out a spare room, a tiny sliver of fear wormed its way into his heart, and took residence. He couldn't ignore the feeling that he was _missing_ something.

Kaoru stared into the saucer of sake. It wasn't like her to drink so much, but she felt an overwhelming need for it, tonight. She was hoping it would steal her away, leaving her silly and happy – but her mood tempered it too much. She was simply … drifting.

Which was better than the alternative, perhaps. Though she couldn't drink much more, or the others would surely notice when she returned home. She flinched at that – there was little chance of them _not _noticing. Not when she'd left without telling anyone. Frowning, she glared at the sake, and downed it. She'd have to do better than this. And she'd have to come up with an excuse, a good one, _soon_.

The evening was a resounding failure, anyhow. Tae hadn't been the confidant she'd needed, which she would have realized if she'd taken a thought for half a second. Oh, sure, the woman would listen to her rant about her troubles, but ranting in generalizations wasn't the least bit satisfying. And, what's more, those same generalizations seemed to have caught the woman's attention – where telling the whole story outright would have probably slipped by unnoticed.

The sake seemed to take away some of the strength of that nameless feeling tugging at her throat, but it seemed to add burning to her eyes, making her want to cry out her troubles. She was awfully tempted to give in to it; it would solve at least some of her problems, after all. But she couldn't cry – not now, and not until this whole thing was done with.

Though that would… be easier, soon. Much easier than now. And it would stay that way… probably forever.

Kaoru shuddered, and downed the last of the sake she'd ordered for herself.

"You _have_ been called, then." Came an aged voice. "And you haven't told them."

Kaoru closed her eyes, and set the saucer down. "Sir?" She questioned, uncertain if she were still sober enough to say anything more without slurring – or giving anything away.

"No need to pretend, my girl. I'm not yet so old as to have forgotten. And if that tattoo of yours weren't enough reminder, a certain tall, clumsy friend of yours dropped by this afternoon."

"Rinako-chan!" Kaoru exclaimed, drawn out of her half-drunken misery. "Gensai sensei, she is here?"

"Indeed. Takagi Rinako received a letter yesterday, and arrived to my office late this afternoon with quite the story to tell. She is looking for a place to stay, my dear, as well as somewhere to train. Which would solve more than one of your problems, if I'm not mistaken."

"Nani?"

Dr Gensai laughed. "I've been here a little while, my dear. And while Tae might not know what you're prattling on about, I have no such disadvantage."

Kaoru felt herself blushing. To have said so much in a public forum, where anyone could hear -"Gomen, Gensai-san. I have been quite foolish this evening."

"No, no, my dear; you're quite fine. I only understood because I already knew your meaning before you gave it words. Now, Takagi-san will stay at my home tonight, and you will return to your friends letting them know that an old friend is in town. You will come and pick her up tomorrow morning, first thing, and so we will have the chance to work out a cover story before they have the chance to ask questions."

Kaoru half-smiled. "It will have to be quite the story, sir, to convince my friends that nothing was wrong when I have drunk myself silly. Especially if I have also to give them a reason for her continued stay, and all that will come in the future."

"There's already a perfectly good cover story for the last part, my dear. I will tell you about it tomorrow. Now, as for tonight: how much do your friends know of the time after your father died?"

"I – very little. Well… nothing, really, except that I was assistant master, and continued to teach my fathers' style."

He shifted back, surprised. "Have they never asked?"

"The past is a sensitive subject for them, as well, Gensai sensei."

"Well, then, the solution is easy. Tell them that your friend is coming, and tell them that you met her when your father died, and that your memories of her are tied up in some very painful memories surrounding his death."

Kaoru looked at him, eyes shining. "Oh, thank you, Gensai sensei!"

He laughed. "I am glad that the truth is enough in this case. Although –" He trailed off.

"Yes?"

"You should consider telling them something of the truth, if it weighs so heavily on your soul, Kaoru-chan."

"I cannot! You know I am sworn to it."

Dr Gensai shook his head. "No, Kaoru, not all of your friends. But you are only sworn from letting it become known. There is no reason not to tell some – or perhaps one – that weighs on your heart most of all. He, at least, would understand, my dear."

She blushed, looking at her hands. "He is the one I can least tell."

"You have far too little faith in your Rurouni, Kaoru. He would not desert you."

"And perhaps that would be the worst possibility of all! He might try to keep me from going." She looked up at him. "I have played my part too well, Gensai sensei. I am a little girl to them."

"You _are_ a little girl, Kaoru-chan, whatever is in your past or your future." He held up a hand to forestall her protest, "However, I know what you are saying; I will let this lie for tonight. Get home, ease their minds, and get some sleep. Enjoy the rest while you have it, my dear."

"Hai. Arigato, Gensai sensei."

Kaoru rolled to the balls of her feet and stood, moving to slip from the room. A hand on her arm stopped her. "Have you stopped taking the inhibitor, yet?"

Kaoru sighed, and it seemed to come from the depths of her soul. Her good mood fell, though only a little; she stared into the hall, unwilling to look at the doctor. It would be easier for both of them, if she didn't. "Hai, sensei."

"Come to my office in a week, and we will decide if you are ready enough to begin."

"Arigato." She said, then hesitated. There was so much more to say, to discuss…

But then she let it go, shoving that thought from her mind, pulling the other parts of her happiness to herself. She fixed a smile, and a moment later it didn't even feel fixed, as she found herself slipping from the room gracefully enough. Her head and heart were far clearer and lighter than they had been all day, regardless of the amount of alcohol she had consumed. She stopped long enough to pay her tab – taking fierce satisfaction in the fact that money, at least, would be changing for the better – and sent herself out into the cool summers' night. She walked slowly, enjoying the night. There would be few enough of these that she could claim for her own.

And anyhow, it had been terribly long since she'd been able to walk a street alone at night without _any_ worry for her safety. She fixed her gaze on the heavens, extending her senses around her. A half-dozen inches, no more, such a limited ability – but enough that she could stare at the constellations without stopping her walk. Even at that, it only worked because all she had to avoid were trees and large ruts in the road. She pressed at the bounds of her sense of space, but couldn't feel any change; no matter, such would likely come later. Kaoru smiled up into the sky.

Yes, there would be _good_ changes, too. She let out a carefree laugh, and spun about. She added a half-skip to her step, the most she could manage in a kimono, and grinned up at the shining lights of the night. Dr Gensai was right; she was still a girl. But so? Was it so wrong to enjoy the wonderful moments of the universe? The way she saw it, age was only an excuse; she would rather anything than to surrender these wonderful moments of freedom. If growing old caused that, she wanted no part of it – not even for the sake of romance, not even to show up Megumi. Maybe not even for…

Well, yes, there was Kenshin. Kaoru let out a sigh; for him she'd be as old and boring as anything – though perhaps she only said that because she knew he'd never want it. But then, it might well be that he'd never want _her_. Which might only mean that she was, or acted, far too young for him.

Kaoru frowned. Such a puzzle. Not that it _mattered_. In the next days and weeks, she'd make sure he saw her as a friend, and nothing else. It would be a terrible goal to pursue him romantically; a much better one would be to put romantic notions out of his head, and the best of all would be to solidify their friendship.

His friendship meant everything to her. The rest of it – well, she could do without, if need be. Who knew how such things would turn out? But for certain, she couldn't lose Kenshin's friendship. Nothing in the world was worth that risk, not even this oath.

A small fire seemed to burn in her, at that. Perhaps, when this was over, she would be able to –

A figure dropped from a tree in front of her. He was soundless, and she was staring at the heavens - she _felt_ it, and he must've been six feet away. Something in her _burned_, it was excitement, it was so many things. She felt another join him. She felt, as well, a sudden rush of hostile intent, as though it were heat she could see or light she could hear or a sound she could feel. The burning became a fire, and she snapped her head up.

Thugs.

The fire within her roared in her ears.


	2. Adrenaline

There were three of them, actually. She made a mental note to fine tune that particular sense, then dismissed it; if there were this much change already, things would be too wonky to be reliable for at least a few days. As if in proof, the wave of their intent intensified unbearably, then backed off to almost nothing, leaving her dizzy and startled. She wanted to change the mental note to 'don't leave home until this thing settles', but that would be about impossible, as well. Instead, she gave up on mental notes, and fixed her attention on the three men in front of her.

There was another, off in the woods. No more than one, this time, though – it seemed… too weak. Maybe it was a pet dog? Something like that. No matter, these three would have been a fair match for her, even the way her friends knew her. Though – she had no bokken. She wanted to fall into a fighting stance, but the kimono would surely make that impossible. Her hand-to-hand was a bit rusty, too. Nervousness tugged at her, but she pushed the feeling aside with a well-practiced ease. Life with Kenshin had prepared her for unexpected battles.

"Aww, now, what's a pretty thing like you doin' out here all alone?" Said the first man, the one in the middle.

Kaoru rolled her eyes. Did these idiots always say the same sorts of things?

"Walking home." She said.

"Well, how's about we give you some help?" He said, leering at her. "I think we could help you home, eh, boys?"

His goons chuckled in the accepted manner of the standard goon. Standard being a bit more malicious than 'stupid goon', and a bit too fast on the heels of their boss' comment to suggest any real brains of their own.

Kaoru slipped her shoes from her feet; they'd only get in the way. Turning an ankle wasn't her idea of fun. Honestly, she'd half a mind to strip naked rather than try to fight in the kimono – though the distraction that would provide would give her too much of an unfair advantage. She stifled a giggle. Besides, it would take far too long to untie her obi.

The head thug stepped in her direction, and she fell back – into a modified fighting stance. One meant for use with kimonos, and hand-to-hand combat.

Strange, how her muscles found it so easily, when it hadn't been used in two years.

"Aww, lookit that – she wants to fight." The goon grinned. "That's alright, girly, I like 'em feisty."

Kaoru had enough. She spun on the ball of her forward foot, and launched herself at him.

She was so surprised by her own speed that she missed the chance at attack, and simply sailed past him to the other side. Oh, she was nothing nearly so fast as Kenshin, but still – she felt… less weak. Less like the world was passing by as she fought to make herself faster. Less as though there was a barrier and she just couldn't move faster, less as though she were moving through water – she felt… so very…

_Strong_.

Kaoru landed lightly behind the men. It didn't matter. They were street toughs, and nothing more – she was right to begin with, she could have handled them yesterday, a week ago, a year ago. She took the one on the right, first, before he'd even turned to look where the woman had gone. She reveled in the sheer speed of it, in the grace and power she had the time to display. He fell unconscious to the ground with the stupid, lost look still on his face. The second one had begun to look, and that only made it sweeter as she slammed a fist into his piggy face. His eyes widened in surprise, but he hadn't even managed to cry out before he, too, fell into the abyss waiting behind his eyes.

The leader she left for last. She stopped long enough to stare at him, long enough to see his fear. She watched as it shifted to incredulity, then determination. She moved, almost playing as she tried to see just how fast she could move. She was behind him, before him – off to his side. Kaoru was everywhere at once, watching as the foolish man realized he was no match for her.

And then she watched as he fell to the ground, beside his companions.

She stared at her hands, for a moment. Stared around herself, as though almost unwilling to believe no rescue mission had come – and, more, that she hadn't needed one. She wanted to dance, she wanted to sing – the world seemed even brighter! Oh, what a wonderful thing, to have beaten such degenerates by herself!

A soft sound began, and then grew louder, becoming the steady beat of slow clapping. The feeling behind her, the 'other' person, suddenly seemed brighter. Kaoru spun.

It was only one person, but there was something in the way he moved that said _danger_. He walked slowly towards her out of the darkness, his hands moving together in a clap that was slow enough to be half-mocking, his posture a wary sort of relaxed – the way a person stands who is being utterly nonchalant, but doesn't know how to relax past a certain point. Some part of her suggested that she had thought him a dog, or maybe a child, not because he had less life-force, but because he had known how to shield it.

The thought put her even more on edge, her weight balanced in her toes, ready to run. This foe would be far, far beyond her.

"Congratulations." The voice seemed to tear a hole in darkness to force itself out, low and grating to her ear.

All at once, Kaoru relaxed. She settled her weight to almost her full foot, and bowed - but forced her mind to pay more attention. "Sensei."

"I came only to make sure you would not cause trouble." He said.

Kaoru looked at the three goons, flopped in the middle of the road. She raised an eyebrow, but then blanked her expression, saying only a flat "Gomen nasai."

He laughed, a sound like a saw on wood. "No, no, little Kaoru. That was not what I meant. You may exercise to your hearts content, as long as you keep your attentions to places and people who will not be missed." He stepped forward out of the last concealing shadow, bringing his form - towering and massive - to stand before her. "I had heard you had made a comfortable life for yourself. I wanted to make sure that comfort had not erased the memories of struggle."

"No, sensei." Kaoru said. She wanted to ask more, but there were only a few phrases she was permitted to utter to this man – a lesson she had once learned very well.

He laughed again. "No questions? No accusations? You seem to have gotten smarter." He grinned, toothily; it reminded more of a wolf's snarl than any smile. "Good. It is obvious that you have already stopped the inhibitors, and so I will reward your good behavior. I will not bother you more – or at least not _much_ more. This time is still your own, and I will not interfere in it or the people who make up this life of yours –" He stared straight into her eyes. "Until or unless you let them take up _my_ time, Kamiya."

"Arigato, sensei." Kaoru said. Still flat, emotionless. It was a struggle, but she refused to so much as let that fight show in her eyes.

He stepped backwards, and began to blend into the shadows. "You will not see me again for 12 weeks, Kamiya. But rest assured; if you try to run, if you try to get your little friends to fight me or to help you escape _I will be there_. And it won't work, little girl. Your Battosai may well be more than a match for me, but even _he_ is not immune to bullets. Nor can he help you from within a jail cell, if it comes to that – and I'm sure we can keep him on false charges for at least a night, my dear.

He grinned again, "And a night is all it will take, ne?" He disappeared, and her sense of him faded as well. Whatever mask he'd used before, it was obvious that it was _intentional_ that he had let her know something was there. "Sleep well, little Kaoru. All will be well, and better than well, so long as you do as you've promised."

Kaoru stared into the darkness where he had been, fighting her shudder. No doubt he was still watching. She shook her head, and started walking again, her former elation gone. Reminders of the past were cropping up everywhere, it seemed. Why the past couldn't stay back where it belonged, she had no idea. Even the beauty of the night seemed lessened, and Kaoru wondered if this weren't what mellowed adults; this fear that some unnamed thing they'd done, some small tarnish on their soul, would come to light. That perhaps a person made a mistake every so-many years, and the longer they lived, the more of those they could remember, saddening the present with the built-up past.

She shook her head, as she walked. There were _good_ things gained in time, too. The ache in her fist reminded her of the feeling of connecting with those idiot thugs, of the burning anticipation she'd felt before that fight, of the triumph as they lay sprawled across the ground, and her smile crept back onto her face. Oh, yes, there were good things.

She continued her walk, her step just a little lighter, the ache just a little less sharp.

She reached home quickly, slipping in the gate and locking it behind her. She made to move silently across the lawn, then paused. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, and then tried to move quietly without being _too_ quiet. She was sure she looked like an idiot, really, but she could always excuse it on the sake.

"Kaoru-dono?" Came the expected voice. "I have been worried for you." He said, plainly. "You left without mentioning it to this one."

"I – er, I got this letter." Kaoru said, finding the alcohol – or perhaps it was the stress, or the fight, or the long day - suddenly catching up with her. Regardless of the source, she was grateful for the slight slur it added to her words. A little slur like that would add credibility to her story, provided she kept her tongue saying the right things.

"It was from an old friend." So far so good, the right story _and_ the truth. "A friend of mine will be staying here, starting tomorrow. I, um, I had to go and… do some things. Um, for …. Her, and stuff." Kaoru wanted to _cry_ at the sheer stupidity of a statement like that. She wasn't sure whether she hoped he believed it or not. Considering if he believed it…

"That is reasonable, Kaoru-dono"

…he thought her an idiot. Oh, well.

"But why have you been drinking? Sake, Kaoru-dono?" Kenshin asked, sharper than was his wont.

"Uh – hai." No getting out of that. "I…well, you see…"

"You do not wish to see this friend?" He sounded confused – as though that had seemed like a good excuse at one time, but wasn't making sense now.

She wanted to growl. The excuse he conveniently provided might have been worth using, but he'd figure out right quick that she didn't mind Rinako's presence. Besides, she wouldn't be able to stand it if the two people closest to her in the world hated each other. Especially not if they did so because of her lie…

"Kaoru-dono?"

… and she'd been quiet too long. "Hai, Kenshin, gomen. I was drinking, yes. Rinako and I became friends shortly after my father died. She is very dear to me, but her return reminds me of… some very sad things." Some drunken part of her brain wanted to add Kenshin's standard 'that it does' to the end of that sentence, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from saying it.

"Sessha understands, Kaoru-dono. Bad memories are hard on us all. You should get some sleep."

Her mind added the _that you should_, and she almost burst into giggles. She didn't know why it was suddenly so _very_ funny, but it was. She blamed the sake.

"Are you alright?" Kenshin asked, with concern.

"Fine, Kenshin, fine. Um, I'll get some sleep. That's a good idea."

_That it is._

Kaoru clamped a hand to her mouth, and ran for her room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

He watched her run away with a puzzled look. The hand clamped to her mouth – she wasn't going to be ill, was she? She didn't seem that drunk… He frowned, no, she wouldn't run for her room to be sick.

Strange. Very strange.

Kenshin chalked it up to the oddities of women, and went to settle for some sleep.

He walked normally to his room, then opened and closed the door – without going in. He didn't know why he bothered, as there was little chance she was aware of such sounds. Still, he stood, waiting until the sounds of her breathing evened out, and then went to sit in front of her door. He settled his sword to his shoulder, sleeping against the shoji. It had been a long while since he'd felt the need to do this, but not so long that it wasn't comfortable. Something was bothering Kaoru, more than just a friend visiting – he was almost sure of it. And until he knew what it was, he'd be sleeping right here. Where he could guard her – with his life, if need be.

He'd wanted to ask her more. He wanted to know all about the friend, all about the letter. He had wanted to ask her about that time in her life – even if it meant she asked about his own history. It had seemed suddenly… unforgivable, that he hadn't asked sooner. A betrayal of their friendship, that he didn't know something so important about her.

He had dwelled, all day, on the fact that Kaoru would have any sort of secret from him that could affect her so, that he had sworn he would talk to her about it the moment she returned, no matter what. But she'd looked so very tired, and rather rumpled and even a bit dirty – he thought she might have tried to run off her frustrations, something he'd done more than once. And when he'd realized that, on top of all that, she'd been drinking… well, he would let her sleep tonight. His questions could be asked just as easily in the morning.

And yet –perhaps they didn't need asking at all. What she'd said was reasonable. This friend must bring up terribly conflicting emotions, both the comfort during her time of greatest need, and the painful reminder of the need itself.

Kenshin settled more fully against the door-support, and cleared his mind of his worries. Staying up all night wondering about it wouldn't help anyone. He closed his eyes, stretched his senses in a familiar blanket about the house, and drifted into a light, wary sleep.


End file.
